61
Sara
The invasion begins just as I finish gobbling down the breakfast Peter prepared for me. What feels like an army of stylists, makeup artists, and hairdressers descends on my tiny one-bedroom apartment, filling the living room with enough hair products, garment bags, and pots of eyeshadow for fifteen brides—or drag queens. Pam and Suzie, the women who measured me for a dress, are there, but so are two of their assistants and at least four hairdressers and makeup people. It’s hard to tell exactly how many with all of them coming in and out of the apartment to bring the ever-mushrooming amount of supplies.
Peter promptly abandons me to the torture, claiming that he needs to oversee the security arrangements and other logistics at Silver Lake. His own tux is getting delivered straigh
